Honor and pity for the smitten field, The valorous ranks mown down like precious corn, Whose want must famish love morn after morn, Till Death, the good physician, shall have healed...
O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood...
The Old Year groaned as he trudged away, His guilty shadow black on the snow, And the heart of the glad New Year turned grey At the road Time bade him go.
Never was there lovelier town Than our Falmouth by the sea. Tender curves of sky look down On her grace of knoll and lea. Sweet her nestled Mayflower blows Ere from prouder haunts the spring...
The battle will not cease Till once again on those white steeds ye ride, O heaven-descended Twins, Before humanity's bewildered host. Our javelins Fly wide, And idle is our cannon's boast....